I’ve never been one to follow fashion but I undoubtedly have the look that attracts women. A simple stroll across the city centre will cause many an attractive woman to come up to me and brazenly offer me free entry to a “gentlemen’s club” where every Tuesday night is a “Wild Bikini Night” with “2-4-1 dances” before 11pm. Perhaps I should take them up on their kind offer as I am most certainly a man who appreciates both culture and interpretative dancing in a rock ‘n’ roll format?
On the other hand, I could just do what I normally do and seek shelter in a basement. So that’s what I did and in that basement was a young, good natured chap having a bad hair day called My Music Myth. True to Glasgow form, he had an acoustic guitar and a collection of songs about girls that no longer want to have anything to do with him. Maybe they will reconsider their departure from his life after they see his remarkably good parody of a sensitive singer songwriter studying for an HNC in Music?
Next on was a rather solemn chap called Kenny McColl with his voice and guitar playing suggesting that he was indeed deadly serious about doing his performing thing. Certainly there was a maturity and variety to his songs that bodes well for our Mr McColl but this was (un)balanced by a lack of stage presence that made him seem distinctly awkward and unconvincing. Practice will perhaps make perfect however.
Looking a lot more comfortable on stage was Pamela Quinn. She had brought along a couple of guys for stringed support but they were soon abandoned as she found her pace. Ms Quinn’ voice is an interesting one. Her voice isn’t particularly distinctive but she uses it well and manages to bring warmth and a subtle wistfulness to the words that she sings. She’s an appealing performer – it is as simple as that.
Last on were Playing At Pharaohs. Despite having a full complement of four, they proved to be most lightweight of the performers on tonight with their songs being capable of floating atop a cloud. I suspect that would probably have been their intention and perhaps their current musical direction will lead them right into the cardigans and moonbeams of twee pop.
Another night over. What to do now? She suggests that we visit one of those “gentlemen’s clubs” that have recently been brought to my attention. I think she meant it too…